Echo

even now in heaven there were angels carrying savage weapons.

(u.n.k.l.e.)

One thing that I always ponder is what happens if you try to wish upon a star but tag your hopes and dreams onto a plane instead. This has been something I’ve worried about for years, but then the other night, I had an epiphany…

You can wish upon a star, as the saying goes, and hope that somewhere out there in the universe, a mystical power will grant you your wish.

But if you accidentally wish upon a plane, now there are, say, hundreds of people you have directed your hopes and dreams to. Essentially, you have shared your hopes with them, even though they aren’t consciously aware of this. Those hundred people now go on with their own lives, but what if unconsciously, they carry your wish with them and somehow, with the synchronicity of the universe and the way small changes on the other side of the world can affect your reality, their combined efforts manage to manifest your wish for you.

So you can wish upon a star, one so abstract and far away, or you can share your dreams with a group of strangers headed towards an unknown destination. And perhaps, those strangers might, through the motions of going about their day, help manifest your dream for you.

I’ve decided that every night, I’m going to make a wish upon a plane.

Preferably the largest plane I can find.

So the new fad sweeping our little office is gall bladder flushing. Eddie brought in this plan from his chiro friend who swears that if you flush yourself of gallstones, it will improve your joints. So after the guys all swore by it, I thought I would give my ailing knees some relief by trying it out.

The plan involves drinking a lot of organic, natural apple juice for five days, with the last two days requiring half a gallon of apple juice drank in 8 oz. servings at 2 hour intervals. Then the last day requires servings of epsom salt and grapefruit juice and extra virgin olive oil and grapefruit juice at specific times.

Your body turns into a war zone, and out come your gallstones.

Well, my body feels okay today, but I’m hoping that near the end of the week, my knees will feel like the trampolines they used to be. And by the weekend, I’ll be dunking again.

I watched Stranger Than Fiction last night. I think this is one of my favorite movies now. Holy cow, it’s so creative and smart. I loved the dialogue, and Will Ferrell gave a great performance…he really reined it in and took his character seriously, which was something I was afraid he wouldn’t do. The situation was so absurd but he played his character so human and real with a believable arc, that it was impossible not to get lost in his journey.

It was funny because I had really wanted to see this movie when it first came out, but then I waited and waited. Sometimes I like to find the right time to watch a movie that I really think I’m going to like. I had rented it on Sunday, and my coworker and I were talking yesterday about how I want to let go of the edge and just dive into my creative well and see what comes out…because I need to get focused and write something good so I can stop working at my job. He said that what I need is a manager, someone who’s on my ass getting me disciplined and being my muse. He asked me if I’ve seen Stranger than Fiction, and I told him I actually had it at home and was planning to watch it, and he said I was gonna get a lot out of it.

Well, first of all, when a writer goes into his or her cave, it’s unpredictable. You don’t know if you’re going to go crazy, but you have to be willing to let it happen. Emma Thompson was super nutty, but I loved the part when she goes into the hospital, sees the old guy standing around, takes a few seconds to look at him intensely, then sums up that there’s nothing wrong with him…he just likes looking at sick people. Sometimes you just look at people and you know. I hope that my process doesn’t lead me to insanity, but I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t gone down to the bottom of the well, yet. I think I’m almost ready to.

Secondly, you can hire muses? Fuck. I didn’t know that. Muses for me, have always been love interests that I feel a powerful chemistry with and attraction to, but for some reason, something inside me keeps me from getting too close or them from getting too close. It’s a pull me/push me nightmare with a lot of passion and sexual frustration. There’s never sex, because I think deep down, I know the sex will take away from the creative, idealized side of the connection. A lot of times they’re unavailable people themselves. But between the chemistry and the inability to have them or consummate an emotional and physical relationship, that torture juice fuels a lot of my creativity. It’s like being around them creates this electric frenzy inside of me where I can see and feel everything. I want to tell them everything, show them everything, but they’re not really listening or don’t know what I’m talking about, so it challenges me to communicate in very truthful or emotional ways that exceed my natural daily ability (or maybe willingness). These people drive me crazy, but they allow me to do my best work, so I’m always terrified when they’re gone gone. It’s like losing your energy source. Sometimes you can internalize a muse, but it’s so much easier with an external muse. The juice is so much more powerful and raw. I don’t know if Queen Latifah could shape me up…I felt like her character didn’t really become as prominent and fleshed out as I thought she would be…but I definitely wouldn’t mind a calm and soothing companion around me when I go into my cave and jump down that well. I always worry about my ability to come back.

I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next months. I’ve made up my mind that I’m diving into the well, but this time I want to reach the bottom. I know I disappear whenever I attempt this, but a lot of it has to do with the fact that when I devote myself fully to my creativity, I have trouble controlling my external manifestations, so my personality gets all over the place, and that’s something that I don’t feel comfortable with people seeing…my distinct personality inconsistencies and splits. But I want everyone in my life to know, that this time, I’m coming from a place of more strength and inner integrity than I’ve ever had in my life, that diving into the well won’t destroy the real me, but it will help me integrate whatever it is that I feel I left behind in those depths. I hope by giving complete power to my creative, abstract side, it will lead me to where I need to go and eventually integrate all my pieces and set me free. And that once I have achieved better integrity and consistency with my outward personality, that I will finally be able to allow people that I want and whose company I enjoy to get close to me. It’s all theoretical, isn’t it? But these are my hopes, and I hope that even if I’m not physically around or if I seem to be a mess, that all those people that I’ve had deep connections with and have helped change in some way, whether friends, family or strangers, will also be there for me in spirit when I dive, and that their good will and positive energy will help me find my way home.

i am going to destroy myself this fall.

but it will be a controlled demolition.

hopefully.

forgive me.

but i’m going to disappear again.

i’ll be here as often as i can.

probably a lot.

i’m excited.

new objective

new objective as we head into the fall, a season where i am both at my strongest and most vulnerable:

when in the present, withhold talking and perceive emotionally.

let the emotions experience life without the demands, critiques and dominance of the mind.

let the heart unfold the truth of every moment and interaction.

and if the truth is painful, take that energy back to your cave and turn it into poetry.

and if the truth is beautiful, take that fear back to your cave and turn it into poetry.

and one day when you are loaded to the brim with poetry, tense with trying to hold every drop without spilling over, let yourself topple the cup and empty yourself of everything.

and perhaps, with the mastery of this task, you will set yourself free.

Damien Rice – Volcano

“Volcano”

(Damien Rice)

Don’t hold yourself like that
You’ll hurt your knees
I kissed your mouth and back
But that’s all I need
Don’t build your world around volcanoes melt you down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I’ll ask for the sea

Don’t throw yourself like that
In front of me
I kissed your mouth your back
Is that all you need?
Don’t drag my love around volcanoes melt me down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I’ll ask for the–

What I give to you
Is just what I’m going through
This is nothing new
No no just another phase of finding what I really need
Is what makes me bleed
And like a new disease
Lord she’s still too young to treat
Volcanoes melt me down
She’s still too young
I kissed your mouth
You do not need me

the homeless guy did a double-take as i stepped around him towards the automatic doors. his eyes widened.

“You’re a magnet.”

he squinted, as if trying to remember me from somewhere.

i quickened my stride into the store, relieved to hear the whoosh of the automatic doors closing behind me.

So this is what went down last night. I haven’t processed all of it yet internally, but I was definitely in some kind of zone.

I did my first speech for Toastmasters last night. I secretly had one objective and one objective only–the private me that only people with “soulmate” connections see, and what you get a taste of on my blog…I was going to publically reveal it. I was going to rip off my mask and show my true self to a room full of people and see what happens. I didn’t know what to expect, but I did expect it to be an unusual night for probably many involved.

I know what the experience is like for people in one-on-one situations–it changes them. I’ve been told it’s like being hit with a live wire, an energy that gradually works its way through you until you can no longer see yourself or your place in the world in the same way. Sometimes the changes are small or temporary, sometimes the changes are dramatic and what floats up to the surface from these people’s subconscious is a big tragic fish that they can no longer ignore. Over the years, I’ve grown in confidence that as hard to explain as these connections and experiences are and as scary as the unknown is, it’s something that does immense positive good for those who can hear the message and accept it.

I was nervous. I’m a writer, not a speaker. I may seem outgoing, but the true me, I hide like a monk in a dense forest who only reveals himself to the stranger lost in the woods to provide direction. Otherwise, I keep to myself.

I practiced the night before in front of the one person who had inspired this change in me, the one who stirred up my insides enough to make me want to share this ability, to not keep it hidden. I have knowledge. That raw truth is power. And I was going to see what happens when I reveal that I know how to use it.

The meetings are held at an IHOP in Santa Monica. I always thought it was a little ridiculous, like a Saturday Night Live skit. We’re in this little conference room in the back of the restaurant, and as these nervous people are giving speeches, waiters come crashing in with dishes rattling, and bad 80’s music like “Take My Breath Away” or “Take On Me” trailing after them from the restaurant speakers. The group is mixed–a lot of business/financial types looking to improve their professional presentation skills next to shy, mousy individuals looking to get over their shyness, with a small handful of free spirits tossed in.

I was a little anxious, but I was confident. I know they say, imagine your audience is naked as a way to not be nervous, but I needed one hell of a pep talk from myself, the kind that’s so confident, so spot on, it destroys any cell of doubt inside me. I looked around, at this fairly conservative crowd and then in my head, I heard myself say:

I’m about to have sex with all of your minds, and you don’t even know it yet….

It was the funniest thought to me, but it was so true. Suddenly, there was no doubt inside me. These people, so docile eating their dinner, some slightly bored…I looked at each and every one–the old ladies, the stiff business men in suits, the married guy who’s closetly gay, the cute nervous guy and said in my head, you are all gonna wanna fuck me when i’m done with you.

Oh man did I feel empowered.

Ironically, the theme of the meeting turned out to be Passion. It was like it was fated (to give you an idea, past themes have been music, islands, BS like that). This kind of cheesy woman was our guest speaker and she’s made a living teaching people how to inject passion into their speaking. I listened to her and she had a firm grasp on enthusiasm, but she wasn’t truthful, she was wearing a mask. She was boisterous and colorful, but not radiating true energy, passion. I felt confident I was about to do something big.

We take a break and I go outside to commune with the night sky. People walk by and they see me, but even the homeless people looked and left me alone, for which I was grateful.

I was the 2nd speaker, and the first one was this girl who joined the same time I did. She was giving her first speech, the same assignment I had, which is called the Icebreaker where we introduce ourselves. She’s a little shy and she’s doing this to confront her fear, and I was proud of her because she did a good job despite her nervousness. She talked about how she came to choose her profession, and even told some jokes that came off well.

Then it was my turn. I chose to wear a solid black button down shirt so that my personality from my clothing was neutral if not mysterious. I loved that I had said hi to most of these people at the past 3 meetings I’ve attended, but no one knew me so I was working with a blank slate. My evaluator quietly asked me if there was anything in particular that he should look for and I told him, I’m a Gemini, so what I”m going to do is show you three facets of myself –something that’s superficial like these people are expecting, then something that only some people know, and then something that no one knows. He asked me, “A gemini is usually two. There should only be two sides.” I smile and say, “That’s the myth isn’t it? There are actually 3 sides to every coin.” And with that, I get introduced.

The toastmaster had emailed me questions about what I’m passionate about and what makes me jump in with two feet so that she could write an introduction for me. I had written her back and told her that I would answer all these questions about passion in my speech, so I gave her an intro that I knew would give people their first surprise about who I was.

So she introduced me and she says, “Julia is an avid basketball player who on a good day, shoots 60% from outside the 3 point line.” The corner with all the young guys suddenly gets lively and you hear them go, “WHOA!” “She hopes to someday dunk when scientists figure out how to replace body parts bionically. She was the national winner of ESPN’s fantasy basketball last year, and she once used her knowledge of an NBA player’s stats to figure out his weakness and beat him at HORSE.” All the men were looking at me, bug-eyed. When I walked up, it was like I was a celebrity, like they were seeing me in a whole new light. haha, this was only the beginning.

I gave my speech, and there was no fear:

I was born on June 14th, 1978 at 10:55 am. Mom’s an A type. Dad’s an A type…it’s not a good combination. I grew up. Went to various schools. Was told my handwriting sucks and that I’m too fast for the girls, but the boys are too rough for me. I graduated from college at the age of 20 with two degrees, but to be honest, I didn’t really learn anything. I’ve had 5 knee surgeries but I can’t stop playing basketball. I like to play against men because how someone conducts himself when he loses, and how someone conducts himself when he wins, is an excellent indication of character. I’m a compulsive joker. I once told someone I have a photographic memory, but he didn’t believe me after he ran into me the next week and I didn’t remember who he was. I’ve walked into public men’s rooms six times in my life, but only once was intentional and no one said thank you. My two greatest fears are serial killers, and spiders, though a serial killing spider would probably scare me too.

On the flipside, I’m a closet romantic. I like thunderstorms…dreams…how 2am feels…and I’ve never kissed in the rain. I would like to think that there’s more to this world than just what we can see. I listen closely to people when they talk and I ask a lot of questions…not because I’m analyzing them, but because I’m trying to paint a full picture in my mind of the truth and beauty of who they are, flaws and everything.

I can be mentally impatient but emotionally cautious. I’ve been accused of being mysterious. I’ve unconsciously built a maze around myself that can lead people trying to get to know me into dead ends or circles,
but I promise you, my inner world is deep and calm, with a delicate balance, like a rainfilled well on a moonlit night, full of rich colors that I’m more than willing to share with anyone who can actually manage to find me.

My best friend in the world is Michael. Michael is 23 years old, and he’s the first person I ever said I love you to, where I really understood what that meant.

Michael is my little brother…and he’s mentally disabled.

My parents like to tell me that I was very protective of him when we were little, but I don’t remember that.

What I do remember, is the night he climbed up that high swivel chair in the kitchen, and he fell, hitting his head on the sharp metal piece of the chair. I’ll never forget that sound that night…

That….CRACK.

It was so matter-of-fact. So…unavoidable.

There was so much blood, so much blood. My mom was screaming, she didn’t know what to do. So she goes and gets our next door neighbor who’s a police officer, and he has to call the paramedics. The paramedics come, they take my brother to the hospital, and I don’t remember what happens after that. I guess he was okay, right? Because he lived.

But here’s the thing. A couple of months later, my parents are fighting so they’re not paying attention. Michael climbs up that same chair, and he falls. Again. And it happened so fast, even though I’ve seen this scene before, so I know what happens, I wasn’t fast enough to stop it. I couldn’t catch him. I didn’t catch him.

He falls, smashing his head on the ground and blood starts coming out almost immediately. His whole body is shaking and I can’t even tell if he’s breathing. I get down and put my hands on him to try to stop the shaking, and he looks up at me, his eyes terrified, like he wants me to tell him that everything’s gonna be okay.

But I can’t.

Because I’m convinced that this time, he’s dying for sure, and I can’t believe they let this happen again. This little boy, who has not yet even spoken a single word in his life yet, but who’s all I have in this lonely, lonely world, I think in this very moment, he’s dying in my arms, and there’s NOTHING I can do about it.

I just couldn’t handle it. I just…disappeared. I went…completely. Numb.

I always wonder if he would have grown up normal if we hadn’t let him fall on his head twice, but we’re not allowed to talk about that.

That was over 20 years ago that I lost my faith in life, in people, in a world that made any sense. But I finally woke up this year.

Have you ever tasted freedom? Do you know what it’s like to get a second chance at life? Where you could have resigned yourself to a path you didn’t really want, to a relationship that doesn’t fulfill you, to a job that drains you, but then you wake up one day, you take a look around, and you realize, this doesn’t make any sense. And you say, you know what? I refuse to live another moment in the shadows, in a world of fear or guilt or pain. I’m going to start living my life for myself, and I’m going to let go of everything that’s not fulfilling or that doesn’t make me happy or keeps me back, so that I can pursue what can be amazing, because I deserve it. Show yourself that you’re willing to be kind to yourself and take care of your hopes and dreams first and foremost, and I promise you, it will be a life changing experience.

I believe that so many people go through life numb. There are people, who have been put into a cage and locked in without a choice, like my brother, handicapped from his full potential by his disability. But then there are people, who like I did, will resign themselves to a prison with no lock, just waiting for the day that the world puts a lock on that door so they can say, see? Life was always a losing battle. I never had a chance anyway. But why? Fear? Fear of being free? Fear of having things that could make you happy? Fear of hoping for more, but failing? Of being disappointed? Do we really hate ourselves so much, that we’re not willing to at least try and explore who we really are, and what amazing things we could have in our lives?

They say that public speaking is the number one fear, but what is public speaking but standing in front of a crowd and saying, this is who I am. This is what I think, this is what I believe, and I’m completely vulnerable to your acceptance or your rejection. But what can be so scary about exposing who you really are, that it’s a fear greater than death? It’s because somewhere along the way, we learned that not only is it NOT okay to reveal who we truly are, but that it’s dangerous. So we spend are lives fighting to communicate as truthfully as possible, yet fighting ourselves to not communicate so truthfully, as to reveal too much of ourselves. No wonder we spend our lives so conflicted, so unsure of who we are and what we want. We’re all just hiding.

So let’s break the ice here, and I’ll go first. This…is who I am. You can feel me, not from my words. Not from my life history. Not from the facts and figures that you can list about me like stats on a baseball card. But somewhere in the space between all these things, something truthful in me is communicating to a truthful part of you and it’s saying, hey, let’s put down the weapons. Let’s put down the armor and let’s talk like human beings. Everyone…has pain. The true test of character is how we rise above the ashes of our personal histories to learn to celebrate ourselves, because no one will know how to celebrate you unless you show them how. Every person has a unique path. Every single person just wants to reach out to others and be heard, to be recognized to be assured that they truly exist, and that they are appreciated, that they are loved. Every person, every one of you, has a unique song in your heart that you’re just dying to sing.

So why not just sing it?

I took my time with the speech and I was passionate, radiating from every ounce of me the truth of who I was. People couldn’t take their eyes off me, and some of them were wide-eyed with forks frozen in mid-air. Usually people are eating, writing comments, etc., but the room was still once I started talking about my brother. Even the president of the club, a flamboyant attention-loving man sat there, pale, his eyes wide with his hand covered tightly over his mouth. I looked every single person in the eye, and they knew…I could see them. I could see who was terrified because they had no idea what was happening. I could see who felt called out because they aren’t fulfilling their potential or they’re in unhappy marriages or jobs. I could see who had reached a place of fulfillment, because they were smiling and nodding, and there was pride in their eyes. One woman had tears in her eyes. Even our supposed expert on passion…I spoke towards her a lot and at first she was like, wow, and then near the end, she looked kind of punchdrunk. I thought one guy, this guy from Poland, hated the speech because he kept avoiding eye contact, and I thought, oh crap, he hates this…this is too brutally honest and emotional for him. But it didn’t matter to me. There were people who were listening and feeling the message and those were the only people who mattered.

When I was done, there was great applause but everyone looked shellshocked. I loved it. The toastmaster came up and the room was silent. She stands there, just nodding, then finally says, “Wow.” She says, “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” And there’s nervous laughter. We take a few moments so people can fill out evaluation cards for me, and I sit there staring down at the table, because I’m feeling shy again, back to my usual public self. I did catch some people just staring off into space, dazed, when I looked up.

I knew I ran long, it was supposed to be a 4-6 minute speech and I went about 10 minutes. You have to stick within your time
limit to qualify for the award for best speaker. But I didn’t care, because I knew I wouldn’t be back. This was my only objective, to see if I had the guts to reveal myself, my inner storm, my passion, my connection to the universe to a group of strangers and change them. I wanted to drop knowledge on them in the form of electricity, and I wanted them to be different from the people they walked in as. I don’t care about learning the structures of formal public speaking at this time. I was learning about the power of truth.

The funny thing was that there were two more speeches after me, and each speaker was really nervous, like their brains were cloudy, so they both ran over the time limit which I’ve never seen happen before. Basically out of 4 speakers, the only one who qualified by staying in the time limit was the girl who went before me. So the toastmaster decided just to qualify all of us, and I won best speaker by vote.

My evaluator had some great comments. He said that he knew I was a writer, so he had very high expectations. He paused and I got nervous because I expected a “but…” But he said, “You completely exceeded every one of my expectations. You went like 40 minutes over the time, but you basically gave us 3 speeches, and all three were excellent. You gave us your Icebreaker, where it was like this spoken word thing where you’re telling us these little facts about yourself that people may not know. And it was cool because you had this riff with numbers going on…5 knee surgeries, 2 degrees…and then you drop into storytelling, about this unbelievably sad, tragic story about your brother. You basically ripped open your chest and showed us every truth and emotion. You could hear a pin drop in here because every person was riveted and captivated by the feelings of this experience. It made me want to go back into my manual and reread the stuff on storytelling, because that was how you do it. And then the 3rd part…holy crap. You turn into this Tony-Robbins Break-Out-of-Your-Prison thing! Everyone could feel the electricity and was with you. Even though you ran way over, it was like we had this experience. We got to know you as someone who’s intelligent, and complex and mostly, very passionate and honest. I think with tonight’s theme of passion, you definitely turned on the juice and that you’ve got plenty more to show us, so I’m excited to see that passion in your upcoming speeches.”

After the meeting, I was still feeling kind of shy so I pulled out my checkbook and started writing a check for my dues. But then a funny thing happened. People lined up to talk to me. The one guy who’s speech I loved last week about how everyone should have kids because they’re amazing and how you should just pick something and fail at it, because everyone should fail sometimes because it’s too hard to try to be perfect all the time. He’s quirky and warm and I loved his style, even though they gave him a hard critique on structure which irritated me. He was one of the people who had watched me the whole time with this proud smile, and he came up and he said what I did was beautiful. I told him I loved his speech last week, and he said, that’s because we’re the same type. And I looked at him, and felt his energy and he was right. He understood that there’s so much more to life than the trivial shit, and that he also knows about spiritual love and the thing that connects us all. That made me feel really good, because it was a spiritual peer acknowledgment. This girl came up and she was a guest. She was really nervous but she told me that she loved my speech and it blew her away, touching her deeply. She said it was amazing to see someone open up their heart that way and just be that vulnerable and honest in a group full of people and she’d never seen anything like it. I thanked her sincerely and told her that means a lot to me, because it really did. She was this beautiful model type, standard LA, someone I would never speak to on the street, maybe out of intimidation, maybe because I wouldn’t be able to imagine we had anything in common, but she was giving me a very real and honest compliment and letting me know that I had connected with her and that she appreciated the experience. That really does mean a lot to me, even though I felt it more than I probably showed it. I think sometimes my politeness covers my emotional shyness.

The guy who didn’t make eye contact who I thought hated my speech…I saw him lurking around. Finally, when there was a window, he slipped up to me, leaned in really close, grabbed my hand and said, “That was incredible. You just raised the bar for all of us…to all the way up here. Thank you for that.” And with that, he left. I realized, he’s shy. It was endearing. Another person I may not have gotten to know out there in day to day life and connected to in this way, under normal circumstances.

The girl who gave the first speech came up and hugged me. She started talking to me about her parents, and how they had always wanted certain things out of her, and expected certain things with her life, but you know what? They’ve had their chance with their own lives. If you didn’t do the things you wanted, then too bad. This is my life and I’m going to do what I want with it. I listened to her and felt good inside. Something had opened up inside of her. She was playing with her inner fire.

I walked out with cute nervous guy. I’ve always liked people who are kind of shy and awkward, because that’s how I perpetually feel when I’m out in public, even though I come off very confident and open. I like going out of my way to make them feel comfortable. I asked him about USC football which is one of his favorite things (though one of my least favorite things!) and it was nice.

I walked out feeling good. Not so much for having gone up and given a speech, but for having done something I’ve never done before…the conversations that I’ve only reserved for people I’ve had deep connections with, the truth and blood and guts of me, I revealed to a group of strangers. And magically, connections arose from it. I know that this wasn’t something that anyone was expecting when they showed up at IHOP last night. But I know that for some people, it was something that will change them, that will make them think about their own lives, about who they want to be and what they want to do. Maybe it’ll be a temporary feeling, when they wake up, it will all seem like a dream or something that was strange and hard to remember. But the message will work in their subconscious. And maybe, if they can get to a better place, a happier place, they’ll pay it forward and set other people free as well.

I slept really poorly last night, and when I woke up, it was already a dream for me. But I know that somewhere, the universe is working and people are opening the doors to their hearts.

“The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.”

– F. Scott Fitzgerald

I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather.
Not screaming in terror like his passengers.

-some Scottish joke

I think I want to spend the day relaxing and writing at Starbucks tomorrow, because I want to get back into that lazy rhythm of Sundays in LA. At least through the lunch rush. I just love the vibe of it there on Sundays. It just makes me feel like I’m on summer break and this good feeling will last for a while.

I’m having a very quiet peaceful Saturday.

There is a lot of love around me right now and I’m also exercising a lot of discipline.

It feels good.

There’s an ancient Chinese proverb that goes something like this:

Don’t paint your car hot pink if you don’t plan to drive around in a hot pink car.

Just try to constantly imagine the future results of your actions when you’re in the moment. I always ask myself, how will Future Julia look back on this moment. And if the answer is, “She’s gonna be so pissed at me…” I probably shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing.

On a separate note. One more fear somewhat conquered.

I ventured into a lesbian bar last night. Brian was proud of me that I was decked out convincingly like a lesbian. He said I looked like a San Francisco lesbian, which is good. I wouldn’t want to be an Alabama lesbian. I’m totally learning right now that what you wear affects how people perceive you, and basically, clothes are just costumes. And if you know what you’re being perceived as and you own that image, you have a lot of personal power. I was wearing all black which has been very effective in keeping people wary about approaching me. I think I come off really intense, so they’ll look, but they’re cautious about initiating a conversation.

One thing I want to also note, is that I’ve noticed that sometimes we have fears and we don’t know from where they originated. Maybe we blocked it out of our minds so it’s a blank, or maybe we’re in complete denial. But what I’ve noticed is that the closer you come to the epicenter of your fear, the closer you come to a situation where you’re face to face with it, the clearer it will become what the original source of your fear is. As I walked up to the club and saw all those lesbians standing around, I started panicking, asking Brian if I talked to the wrong girl, what if her possessive girlfriend comes up and wants to fight me? I was really starting to panic and I realized, that whole thing with my chiro and her wife who left threatening messages on my machine must have really affected me emotionally, because I had no idea I had been scared. I had laughed it off when it all happened and now when I look back, I just get kind of irritated or sad. But I never acknowledged the fear. But I remember it now. It was raining that week, and I remember worrying about coming home to find a crazy, intensely rageful woman with a knife ambushing me at my front door. Even though I felt I was bigger and stronger, I was terrified of being caught off guard. And I guess that vigilance turned into an anxiety around lesbians.

Brian had to take me in because I was terrified and wanted him to pick a place where I could be and not stick out. So he walks in, and gives me a tour of the place like I’m starting a new job. “Here’s the patio, and the dance floor. Bathrooms are over there in the back. If you come up the stairs, here are the private booths and there’s another bar right there if the other one is packed. And if you get scared, you can go right next door to the homo bar.” Then he left.

I did a shot of patron and watched some pretty crazy videos projected against the wall. The DJ was great. He did a Timbaland mix that I was digging. I would totally fuck Timbaland. And when I say fuck, it means think about wanting to have sex with but getting too scared in the moment and talking a lot of nonsense before I run awkwardly out of the car.

It was a very interesting experience because there’s a huge spectrum of lesbians, from girls who were feminine and gorgeous, to girls who looked like they’re the girls next door who are really athletic, to girls who looked like men, to girls who looked like 12 year-old boys. There were the women in their 50’s who looked like every other English lit professor I had in college. There were people who I had no idea if they were men or women, but I don’t think it really matters. They’ve embraced their identity, even if it defied definition. I kind of admired that. I was watching couples and groups and marveling at how diverse and unique all these people were. Some were really shy and would light up if you looked at them. Some were very brazen, like the bullish girl who ran her hand down my thigh as she walked by. There were also a lot of straight guys, just standing around gawking with these glazed looks and frozen smiles, like little boys in a candy store. It was kind of gross, but I’m not one to talk because I came to observe and not participate myself.

I had a couple of gin and tonics (sapphire with two olives, one lime…I’m very specific about my gin & tonics), and I realized I was pretty trashed. I started feeling overwhelmed about being around so many women, like my estrogen tolerance had reached its capacity and I started getting really antsy. I had previously asked this flamboyant guy if I could bum a cigarette and he didn’t have one. He saw me circling later and asked me if I was still looking for a cigarette. I said yeah, so he shared his with me. He said he was here with his friend. “She’s straight” he said. I got excited and I said, so am I. I told him that I had this fear of lesbians so I was trying to confront it, how I was worried that if you talk to the wrong girl, some crazy girlfriend would come up and get crazy pissed. He said first of all, you need to know that in LA, there’s no such thing as a girlfriend. Everyone is up for grabs. Second of all, there are some gorgeous girls here tonight so you need to be talking to someone cuz you’re gorgeous. I told him, honey, you like me because I’m just a gay man trapped inside this body. And he said, “I’m a gay man trapped inside this body, too! Oh my god, I love you!” So we became instant best friends, two gay men, one a little more physically authentic than the other, and I’m kind of relieved to have a guy to talk to and it doesn’t surprise me that in a lesbian bar, of course I would gravitate towards a gay man for shelter. I’m totally a gay man inside. So we’re chatting and all excited and he insists on giving me his number so we can hang out again. I think about Brian, and how he kind of avoids deeper interaction with guys, and I think how ironic it is that gay men are always giving me their numbers and wanting to hang out when really, this should all be for Brian. But he doesn’t want it.

So this guy Rick, who I called Ricky Ricardo because he just didn’t look like a Rick, introduces me his straight female friend. The girl is gorgeous, has fake tits and a great body. She looks Thai. She starts telling me that girls always think she’s a trannie and it drives her crazy. I’m liked, dude, it’s because they’re intimidated by how beautiful you are. And she says, ‘I know, right? It’s because I’m beautiful! But they always think I’m a trannie. I mean, I don’t have an adam’s apple. There’s no penis in these pants!” I tell her, man, girls just get insecure so that’s their problem. She says, “They’re stupid. Look at me. How can I be a trannie if I don’t have a penis? Here, feel this.” She grabs my hand and rams it against her crotch. “You feel that? There’s no penis in there.” I’m like, yeah yeah, you’re preaching to the choir here, but she’s strong and she’s still got my hand rammed against her crotch and is yelling, “See? NO PENIS!” I finally yank my hand from her grasp and tell her, “There’s definitely not a penis there so those girls can go fuck themselves.” And that seems to satisfy her outrage at people thinking she’s a trannie.

Ricky Ricardo buys me another gin & tonic but he accidentally tells the bartender two limes and one olive. But she remembers me and she does it right. I finish my drink and am completely hammered, so while they’re talking to other people, I slip out.

I take a cab home and the driver is this young Indian guy. We ride in silence the whole way, except when we’re about 2 blocks from my house, he asks me if I had a good time and I say I did…I’m straight, but those lesbians can be overwhelming. He laughs and he says how he picks up some crazy people and has seen a lot of stuff. Then he starts talking about how he has an Asian fetish and totally has a thing for Korean girls, and goes on and on
about his appreciation of their physical attributes. Luckily, this conversation doesn’t last too long and we get to my place. It felt like one of those conversations I have with strangers that ends either with an uncomfortable proposition, or a stranger hugging me.

I stumble in, watch Conan (what’s up with the catty irritation between Conan and Max Weinberg? Was it always like that?) and watch the end of an X-Files episode. First of all, Mulder is one of the sexiest characters ever. So aloof, so haunted, yet with such an intense belief that there is more to the world. And that affinity for porn. I would love to get high with him. He’s totally the kind of guy who would drive me crazy.

The episode ended with Scully talking to a priest.

Priest: “Sometimes we must come full circle to find the truth. Why does that surprise you?”
Scully: “Mostly it just makes me afraid.”
Priest: “Afraid?”
Scully: “Afraid that god is speaking. But that no one’s listening.”

This made me sad because it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot. Someone recently asked me if I thought that the universe sends us signs. I told him absolutely. These are opportunities for growth. They’re blessings from the universe, trying to lead us somewhere. He was quiet for a bit, then he said, I think sometimes I get signs, but then I ignore them, because I think, I just can’t deal with them right now. I asked him why he would do that and he said he ignores them when he’s busy with work or not in a place to deal with things. I told him, no one is ever really “ready.” But the universe only sends them if the time is right. You just have to be courageous and know that there’s a reason and a place where you’re going. If you ignore these opportunities, you could be letting many amazing life-changing experiences pass you by.

That was the last good conversation he and I had, the last time we shared that inner space where two people connect and speak truth; we had a good potential to explore some amazing places outside of our comfort zones, but he got scared because he didn’t feel he was ready. I think it happens and I think the universe will keep sending you opportunities in the form of synchronicity and signs, but if you continue to ignore them, I just think it’s sad. Because you could be living the fulfilled and amazing life that you were destined for sooner rather than later. Why deny yourself that out of fear of stepping outside of your comfort zone?

The last few months have had me on a journey, and I feel like a critical challenge is coming up.

I feel it…I’m about to confront the grandaddy of my fears. A part of me is terrified, because like I said, the closer you get to the epicenter, the more the cause of your fear materializes, and I’m terrified of consciously being aware of what it was that hurt me and scared me so badly of letting the very people I want to get close to, get close to me. I’m committed to it though. I’m committed to setting myself free.

The Healer Relationship

One of the things I’m always talking about, is the difference between a healer and a doctor. There are plenty of doctors out there, and they’ve studied the mental/analytical side of healing and hold their textbooks and expert studies supreme. Healers are those who were inherently born into this world with a gift and a purpose, and have strong instincts about how to heal a person holistically, even if it’s not explained in a textbook or seems to contradict accepted knowledge. Healers are few, and just because you’re a doctor, doesn’t mean you’re a healer, though the best doctors are also healers.

There’s something I’ve noticed about the health profession that’s been bothering me for a while and I want to talk about it. There’s a conflict of interest between the doctor as a healer, and the doctor as a businessperson. If a person’s livelihood and wealth depend on the number of patients and the number of treatments, then there’s an inherent conflict of interest in healing their patients quickly and successfully. Yes, I know that doctors take oaths. But how many other professionals also take oaths but are led astray by the need or desire for money? No matter your profession, you’re still human, and human beings have flaws and self-centered desires. So if a doctor prolongs your treatment or doesn’t successfully heal you, either consciously or unconsciously, you’ll keep coming in and spending your money on trying to get well. Even if a doctor doesn’t consciously impede a patient’s healing or give unsuccessful treatment, I wonder if the pressure to have a financially successful practice is a burden on their subconscious that makes them create certain situations without realizing it, like viewing a patient’s malady as mysterious and not being able to figure out a fast and efficient treatment, thus prolonging treatment even though they don’t realize how they are actually contributing to the situation.

Another thing that I’ve noticed in my personal relationships with caregivers, is their reluctance to let go once treatment is ended or no longer pertinent. Sometimes on a personal level, they have trouble letting go. I once bought a therapist in my building coffee because I wanted to talk about his field. Since we were just hanging out and I wasn’t a prospective patient, he gave me the behind the curtain look. First, he told me that new patients were always good because the cost of living is so high now so it’s good news to have more paying patients. He’s a nice guy who seems to have gotten into the field for the right reasons, but he made it sound like new patients didn’t present new professional challenges as much as new “customers.” Then he went into a thing about how if he did it all over, he would go into real estate and make a shitload of money. This made me think about what I had just talked about…how if money weighs so heavily on his head, then if it affects therapy and how often he wants (needs) the patient to come in. They’re basically cash cows…as long as they have something to talk about and work through, then he gets paid consistently. But there’s also another issue–what if you like the patient, come to care for the patient’s drama and become intoxicated by the experience of sharing their discoveries and growth? Even if you know that their major issues are resolved, at what point do you tell a patient that you think they’re ready to end treatment or therapy? Or do you let the relationship drag on until the patient realizes that there’s nothing left here to discover or have fixed? Out of all the therapists and chiropractors I’ve known, only one person has told me that I was done which I really appreciated. Everyone else tells me I have to keep coming in, and it’s indefinite, and sometimes what happens is mostly hanging out and chatting, because there isn’t anything more to be done in terms of healing. So I asked this therapist if it was hard to let go of patients. He got really intense and said, yeah when patients leave, it’s tough. It’s like a break up. And just like a romantic breakup, sometimes people don’t do it the right way. Like they make up a reason to create conflict and then they leave on bad terms. I think maybe a professional caregiver needs to be aware that at the end of the day, no matter how well they connect to a particular patient or how much they like this person, theirs is still a professional relationship and when the work is done, it is their duty to stop the treatment or therapy and let the patient go. I suspect many people don’t do this. I’ve experienced it over and over.

I’ve had this experience with caregivers who get attached to me. They come to really like me, they ask me a lot of personal questions about my life, they tell me about theirs. Sometimes they straight up become romantically interested, and I’ll sidestep that aspect and pretend I don’t realize it; it doesn’t bother me as long as it doesnt’ affect my treatment. But sometimes it does. It’s like all of a sudden, my healing process plateaus or starts going backwards, and they don’t understand it. So we try to work on the issues or the pain more aggressively, but it’s so mysterious, why I’m not getting better. And it always seemed like the doctors involved in these instances, were the doctors who enjoyed my company and felt they had a warm connection with me, or the ones who were romantically interested. Maybe in their not wanting to let go of me, they subconsciously kept me from getting better. I always suspected this, but I never wanted to confront this thought, because it’s a pretty disturbing thought. I have no doubt that it happens and in my life, it did happen with several doctors. I don’t think they were bad people and I don’t think they did it consciously, but it did happen. And when I left them, I quickly and seemingly miraculously got better.

I believe that for you to really get good service in most facets of life,if the service provider respects you and likes you, you will get more. The same as in the health care industry. If a doctor likes you or enjoys having you as a patient, they’ll work harder for you, pay closer attention and take extra time and care to focus on how to make you better. Basically, they’ll give you more healing energy by caring and focusing and really figuring out your individual problem, rather than going through the motions of the textbook and hoping for the best. But there’s such a fine line between them liking you enough to pay special attention to your progress, to them not wanting to let you go and wanting to see you every week. Once that becomes a seed inside them, you’ll see your condition and care deteriorate, though the doctors will become completely baffled by why standard care is no longer working. And they’ll work extra hard to try to help you and tell you that it just takes more time, but at some point, you’ll start to suspect that maybe deep down, the doctor is afraid that if you get better, he’ll have to let you go.

I know that there are a lot of doctors out there who are very good doctors and are consummate professionals. But they’re still humans and I think if you think about your history with doctors and healthcare providers, you’ll remember examples of not getting good treatment because your doctor simply didn’t care, or doctors who were so nice and affable, that even though you sometimes suspected that they were missing things or not doing a good job on you, you would keep going back, almost because you felt bad or didn’t want to believe they weren’t 100% trying to make you better. Maybe they’re completely competent, but something about you or something about themselves is making them unable to heal you. But you have to not just assume that doctors are these professional robots who know everything, and look at them as human beings, and at your relationship as a human relationship. You’ll want to know what the doctors intentions are, and you’ll want to be very cold and practical about analyzing if this person is capable and clearheaded enough to provide you with good care, and if you
r connection can help or hinder the quality and focus of that care.

Visit doctors with your eyes open. Not all doctors are equal, but all doctors are human and are susceptible to human vulnerabilities. Beware if they seem very focused on money, and also beware if you think a warm, personal bond is interfering with the professional care. These are things that can present major conflicts of interest to your getting better.

I think the truth of the human experience is that we’re all just children. No matter what facades and masks we try to put on of being in control, at the core, anyone who’s truthful with himself or herself knows deep down that no one has any clue what’s going on. It’s just the courageous ones who put aside their fear to hold the torch and take the responsibility of leading the rest into the darkness.

One night, last week, I called my coworker late at night. He was going through this gall bladder flush program that removes gall stones and improves your joints. He had just taken a mixture of epsom salts and grapefruit juice followed by olive oil and grapefruit juice. According to everyone else in my office who’s done it, it’s some horrific stuff.

“How’s the flush?”

“Oh man, my body is a war zone.”

I laughed.

“You think you’re gonna make it into work tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t know.”

“Well, I hope it works.”

“So…how was your gym experiment?”

“Really fuckin’ cool. I could see everything, man. How people were interacting, what kind of people they were just by watching them. And these guys kept trying to talk to me, but it was like something about me was making them all confused and stupid. They were kinda like little boys.”

“So red works, huh?”

“It’s unbelievable.”

“I don’t think it’s the red, honey. I think it’s you.”

“I know.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re like creating crazy energy right now and people are magnetized.”

“I know! It’s the craziest thing.”

I start laughing and can’t stop.

“It’s like their mental compasses go haywire. You should see their eyes.”

He laughs.

“Man, you got mad game.”

There’s a silence.

“So what are you doing right now?”

“I’m taking pictures of myself in my underwear.”

He cracks up.

“I’m really glad you didn’t tell me that at the beginning of this conversation, because I wouldn’t have paid attention to a single thing after that.”

There’s a silence. I change the subject.

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. It’s been getting really hard to focus on work. I mean, how the hell are we bettering the world by selling driver’s license scanners?”

“You’ve just gotta think of this as a small step in the master plan. You’re here so that you can do this while you get ready for what you really want to do with your life.”

“We’re completely wasting our potential.”

“Yeah, I know. I know…”

“Man, I’m in such a good place in my life.”

“Yeah, you can tell.”

“People just need to be themselves.”

“You seem totally different from the way you used to be, even at work.”

“Was I a jerk before?”

“No.”

“I was a jerk, wasn’t I?”

“No…you were different. You were more mysterious. Like you would talk, but then it was like the conversations didn’t reveal anything. And we just didn’t know anything about you. And you were always hiding in your office.”

“Yeah, I wanted to be left alone. I don’t think I was very happy.”

“No. But now you’re opening up a lot more, and you’re letting more people into your life which is a great thing.”

“You think I am?”

“It sounds like it.”

“Hey, what’s being a Scorpio like?”

“Hey hey, I can’t give away game plans. Snoop says, your game is to be sold, not told.”

“I’m not asking you for game plan, just what it’s like.”

“Well, we only do things for selfish reasons. I don’t do anything unless I’m expecting to get something out of it, or that it’s going to pay off in some way. You’re always talking about how you do things for people and don’t expect anything back…nu uh. I think of everything as an investment.”

“So everything you do has a motive.”

“Exactly. So us talking, just remember that I have a selfish motive. It’s not necessarily a bad motive…it’s just selfish.”

“Well, here’s the thing though. Us Gemini’s…if there’s one thing we know, it’s to never, ever let anyone catch you. Because if someone catches you, they can own you, and then you’re fucked. You have to be consistently one person for the rest of your life and we can’t do that because we’re all these people trapped in one person. It’s the guys in The Prestige…these facets inside us are all trying to act consistent enough to seem to belong to the same person, but it’s actually a bunch of different people that share one communication hub. They’re all in here and the reason we seem so enchanting to people is because we have so many different personalities, but we know the death of our spirit is for someone to catch us, because they couldn’t keep switching. Only one personality will be allowed to survive and that would mean the suffocation of the others. So we’re driven by this horror and we’re fucking fast. And you’ve gotta be able to catch us first. But no one’s faster than us.”

“Shit, we gotta catch you, too?”

“You can try. But no one is faster and more determined to not get caught than a Gemini. Except maybe a Pisces. Damn, Pisces are hard. I can’t stay away from Pisces. Maybe that’s the thing, Geminis are off chasing Pisces but can’t catch em, Scorpios are chasing Geminis but can’t catch them, and somewhere behind you, you’re driving some poor girl crazy.”

“Maybe a Virgo.”

“I can see that. You’re probably driving a lot of myspace girls crazy…”

We ended up talking about how each sign’s game plan differs, the secrets of how we draw people to us, but he was pretty serious about me keeping it a secret so I won’t post it. But I think if you really meditate on the symbols of astrology, you will find that they really really resonate at the core of people.

“Men always want to be a woman’s first love – women like to be a man’s last romance.”

-Oscar Wilde

I’m Starting to Get It

I remember in college, I was lamenting to a guy that I actually liked that no one is really interested in me. He said, you can have a lot of guys, you just don’t try. I could have probably had something with him, but it was easier for me to say that I couldn’t get anything, as sort of a nothing’s-ever-gonna-happen defense.

And I think it’s worse than the fact I don’t try.

I’m absolutely terrified.

Yesterday, I was at Amoeba Music, one of my favorite places in LA. I was walking down the hip hop section and turned to go around this black guy in a baseball cap when he moved in front of me, almost bumping into me. I was caught off guard and he turned around and was surprised because he didn’t know anyone was behind him. In that split second, I noted that he had really nice skin and kind of looked like Allen Iverson, but cleaner. I didn’t think I had any expression on my face, but when I was browsing behind him, I thought I heard him mumble something to this black girl next to him, “Shit, she actin’ like [something something]” I thought he was talking shit, like telling her that I had given him a dirty look, so I turned around and looked at him. He’s looking at me and he says, “You were looking at me like you thought I was gonna hit you or something.” I was shocked so I said, “What?” because I didn’t think I heard right. He said, “You looked at me like I was gonna turn around and smack you.” I laughed and he laughed too, and it disarmed the moment. That seemed like an absurd read on me, and I thought he was gonna say that I looked at him with disrespect. But then I realized what he actually did perceive.

Fear.

So I thought about what was going through my insides at that time when we interacted. He had almost bumped into me and I was instantly irritated, but that gave way to curiosity while I sized him up. I actually appreciated his looks, though he wasn’t the type of guy I would want to date. But I did think he was goodlooking.

So while I was doing that internally, I projected fear? Apparently such an intense projection of fear for there to be no misreading of that emotion, so much so that he was compelled to comment that I looked like I thought he was gonna hit me, an action which makes no rational sense.

I thought about it a lot last night, because it seemed similar to the incident in the gay bar with the girl. I thought I had been friendly, even leaning close to the girl so I could attentively hear what she was saying to me, yet she was kind of offended that I wasn’t welcoming, and Brian read my body language as one of absolute petrification and terror.

In thinking about my dream last night, I remember one incident with the guy I had liked, where he made a suggestive comment about giving me a massage, and I froze. I felt my senses go completely raw, the way they do when you get in a car accident and you feel like you’re completely exposed and your senses are stripped, and adrenaline bursts through your system. I must have looked absolutely terrified. And yet, I really, really wanted to get close to this guy and the idea of getting a massage from him just blew my mind in a good way. Yet my primal reaction was terror.

Fear. Terror. Petrification. Why?

In this year of fearless living, I have been tackling these little fears one by one but I know which one is the biggest of all.

Why am I so terrified of letting the very people I want get close to me?

I chase after people who are not available, or only make an effort once they have changed their minds about getting close to me. I present a super spiritual side that seems so big as to discourage anyone from being bigger or stronger than me to see through me, but really it’s a massive smokescreen. I’m so soft and vulnerable inside, and terrified that someone’s going to get in there with sharp weapons and start swinging. So my projection of myself is very tough and in control, but how many people can see that it comes from complete and utter terror of being taken advantage of or rejected? And who is strong enough and trustworthy enough to venture in and find me? Because it’s almost a matter of life or death, the way it feels when I get scared of someone. And it’s always stronger when I do want to let the person in.

I talked to a friend today when I made this realization about my fear. I told him that nothing scares me more than when I have strong feelings for someone and those feelings are reciprocated. When they give me a sign that they want to be close to me, I freeze. I freak out. And I kill the moment. Of course it’s safer for me to be one of the boys. What absolute terror I feel when they find out my secret, that the truth of me is feminine and beautiful and desirable. What if they decide to just take it? I’ve got no defenses, outside of my camouflage.

More and more, I’m wondering what the hell happened to me that I can’t seem to remember what it is that can make me so scared of people seeing me as feminine and desirable. It’s becoming really hard to ignore, but really frustrating, because I don’t want to make up a memory, but I feel like all signs point to something being there, but I can’t get it to materialize.

It’s like a black hole.

There’s this girl I used to work with who was like my doppelganger. I didn’t think she looked that much like me because I thought her face was really crude, and something about her energy was very manic and uneven. She had issues with her Asian-ness. She was in a band and was covered in tattoos, and she projected this persona that was hyper-sexual and domineering as well as a “true” persona that was intelligent and prudent. She did have a lot of power over men.

I say she was my doppelganger, because I showed my brother a picture of her once, and he thought it was me (I was kind of insulted because like I said, there was something very crude and cruel about her energy and her face that I would hope I don’t carry), and also, the guy I was dating left me for her, and wanted me to keep our previous relationship a secret (he was a dick so they really deserved each other).

Well, I always knew she was gunning to seduce him. We were the only Asian girls in the office so we would chat in Chinese and she would ask me about him. I realized at some point that she was asking me very pointed questions, and that’s when I knew that something had already started between the two…she was trying to figure out what was going on between him and I. I knew it was happening but I didn’t say anything or confront him. I wanted to see how it played out. Even after he broke up with me because “you’re the kind of girl a guy marries, and I don’t know if I ever want to get married” (haha, please), she would keep trying to figure out what was going on in my life romantically, which made me think he wasn’t making her feel very secure either (like I said, the guy’s a jerk).

Well, I knew it was her for sure because one night, I had a dream where I called him and she answered the phone, even though I had never seen them together in my waking life. But one day, we hung out and he was telling me how much he missed having intelligent conversations. But then the conversation turned (I can’t remember how), and he blurts out that he doesn’t want to get back together because he’s seeing someone. So I laugh and say, “Is it []” and he freaks out. He used to always freak out when I pulled seemingly psychic crap on him. Well, of course it was her. And later, he wanted me to keep it quiet that we had ever dated cuz this guy has a history of dating girls in our office. I ended up quitting because I just want to go to work to work, not be involved in drama with stupid people.

Anyway, so I had this dream last night. I was in med school and it had just started so I was really excited and proud of myself. I was there with my new friends, including this guy that I had briefly dated a couple months ago and still have some lingering feelings for. So I ran into her and it was friendly, like she knew what she had done and I knew what she had done, but we chalked it up to us having gotten involved with a shitty dude. So I invited her out with us and she was really relieved and said how she was really excited to be able to go out and not have to wear name brands (I guess she was working in retail and she was happy to be able to dress closer to her personality).

So we’re all riding in this van and we go to pick her up and she’s dressed up the way she dresses, real hip and punk. The guy I liked was sitting in the front seat, and I was really happy because he and I had just started dating and were in the phase of being excited about each other (though a part of me remembered that things had gotten broken down in the past). It was like we were in this new place and excited, though it was still a precarious connection. So she gets in and she sees him. We’re driving along and she whispers, hey I know that guy. We met a few years ago at a concert and dated for a bit, and I totally fucked him a few times.

Oh man.

See, in real life, we had never slept together, and it wasn’t from lack of desire on my end. But to hear that this girl who had already lured away someone I had dated, had also had a history with someone I was currently into, and had not only fucked him but currently, appeared interested in getting something started with him again…it was like my insides collapsed.

When I woke up, I was very, very sad. I just felt like this girl, this dark, stormy hyper-sexed persona, steals everything that I cherish, and at the end of the day, the people I want will always want her more.

I know this is an easy dream to analyze. I am resisting being that person, my dark side who knows how to use her power to get what she wants, my Scorpio energy.

In my dreams lately, I’ve been working out my understanding of my world and my psychic perceptions. Last night in my dream, I was driving down this freeway that was incredibly pristine and white. I was in a convertible and wearing all white, and even though I was going incredibly fast, the air was peaceful and everything smelled good. The road was completely empty, and all I could see was this pristine highway stretching out infinitely into the horizon. Just miles and miles of it. So I’m driving along feeling peaceful when all of a sudden, I see one other car, also white, being driven by a man dressed in white. I catch up to him and he looks over, surprised to see me. We both slow down a little so we’re at the same speed, then smile at each other. We’re happy that we’ve found each other. So we’re driving along together, and even though we haven’t said a single word, we’re both at such peace to be accompanying each other for this stretch of road. He got off at an exit a little while later, saying goodbye with a smile and a nod, and I sped up, continuing on my way, until the next person I might find on this highway might appear.

I think this is how my inner core feels, and how it feels when a soul connection comes in. It’s this incredible feeling of joy and peace, where you can be close to this stranger that you don’t really know and we’re both inhabiting this inner private place that you suddenly share, empty except for the two of you. And when you part, you smile and nod at each other, and you’re thankful for the time spent knowing that the other exists, and will continue to exist somewhere out there.